Omega: Revenge of the Chozo
by J. D. Rudderham
Summary: On Space Pirate occupied Talon IV, a scouting party is sent to investigate strange phazon readings coming from a Chozo holy site.


The supreme Czar drummed her fingers impatiently on the cordite table, an audible clicking noise emanating form the area. It had been with great reluctance she was here at all; it had been the forcefulness of the head of Phazon Expeditions' request that had piqued her interest at what appeared to be nothing more than another mundane report on a platoon lost during a phazon expedition.

She was about to stand up and leave out of pure boredom, when the head of Phazon Expeditions walked in, clearly distraught. At this new event the Tsar's boredom eased slightly. "I pray this meeting is worthy of my presence Captain?" she asked, not hiding her displeasure.

"Of course, your excellency," the Captain replied, "most worthy." At this the Czar raised an eyebrow, all traces of boredom had left her. Whatever this was for the Captain to speak so strongly to her meant it was extremely imperative for her to hear. She looked around the room and saw the others of the council were as surprised as she, consternation clearly showing on their long faces. The council also seemed unusually large, the Czar noticed, her gaze sweeping across the room. _The damned fool has convened the entire Tallon IV council,_ she thought. Yes, she could see them all now, even through the room's lack of light, the Head of Research, the Head of Installation Defense, the Head of Mining, the Head of Operations, the Head of Exploration and the Head of Construction. _This man must be either mad, or daringly courageous._

At this point the Head of Phazon Expeditions raised a claw into the air and stated, "This flash-drive was pulled from the only survivor of our latest expedition into the Chozo Ruins. They were investigating phazon readings we received when our Frigate scanned the area from orbit." He then placed the drive into the appropriate slot on the holographic viewing device. After depressing a few buttons words began to scrawl across the screen.

3rd Sergeant, 7th Platoon, 15th Company, 5th Regiment

94.03.67.945 – 98.03.67.945

Investigation of obscure phazon readings

Chozo Ruins, Tallon IV

The lift came to a sudden lurching halt, having reached the top of the shaft. It had moved unusually slow today, and Sergeant 3-7-15-5 made a mental note to talk to some of the crew chiefs about it. Too many strange things happened this close to the ruins of the Chozo city and many of the men were beginning to think it was cursed. Odd occurrences like these only served to strengthen the rumors that flew around, rumors like the place was haunted, or that the Chozo were still there, bidding their time until they could strike.

Turning his attention now to his surroundings, the Sergeant noticed for the first time how desolate this place seemed, not to mention how eerie it was. Most of Tallon IV was green and fertile, but not this place, it was desert. The odd thing was though, there were still shells of life laying around, like dead trees, or trampled grass. Seeing this, he was able to understand his men's hesitation at coming here, but when you get an order you follow it. The Zen'Azshrae aren't the most forgiving species when it comes to treason. And so, it was with great reluctance 3S-7 followed his Lieutenant out of the elevator and through the giant gates that marked the entrance to one of the last bastions of the mighty Chozo Empire. From just seeing the ruins, however, you would not be able to make this extrapolation. To think that one of the most powerful of space faring races had built something as inauspicious as this was mind-numbing, to say the least. The boys in research said that it was due to a decline in their empire that began some time ago. Suddenly, for unknown reasons, the Chozo were interested in little more than eccentricities such as the Flora and Fauna that surrounded them. _Crazy Chozo_, thought the Sergeant, _where they failed, we'll succeed_.

The platoon began to spread out now, as it moved down the streets, into its classic formation. Circular in nature with the Lieutenant in the center, two PFC's covering the rear arc, and then the rest of the platoon spread out in front. The platoon was constructed as a light scouting force, and thus no heavy weapons were present. The lack of them did not disturb 3S-7; in fact, it actually eased some of his worries. Heavy weapons, such as plasma drivers, and gattling beams were extremely heavy, and required the use of more energy than a soldiers suit normally generated, thus power-cells had to be carried around as well, only adding to the weight. Their use in a scouting squad was also very minimal, consider that it was almost impossible to use them while on the move, not to mention that it was too easy for an enemy to take out the gunner and then commandeer the weapon himself, turning it on the platoon or squad.

The lieutenant suddenly held up his hand, signaling to his troops to halt and kneel on the ground, weapons sighted. The lieutenant continued to stand, however, his eyes intent on his surroundings. 3S-7 also took the time to investigate his surroundings as well. His firing arc covered the top-left sector of the platoon's formation, in his view was a building, simple in origin which placed it in the post-fall era, as well as an alley-way that went in between the first building, and the building directly to his left, which was also of the post-fall era. Its walls were made of what appeared to be un-processed wood, hardly a sufficient building for someone of today's age. The alley also did not consist of much more than a path of trampled, dead grass leading between the two houses. It was barely big enough for one of his platoon to squeeze through.

Suddenly, the comm-set in his head activated and the lieutenant came on the line. The internal speakers in the sergeant's helmet simulated the lieutenant's position, by calculating both of their positions. Thus, when the lieutenant summoned the sergeant, the sergeant did not have to turn around to look for him, he just stood-up, keeping his weapon sighted on his firing arc, and backed-up until he reached the lieutenant, at which point he put his weapon down and turned to face him.

"I want you to go check out that dwelling sergeant, I'm getting strange readings from it. It might be phazon, it might not be; either way I don't want to risk the whole platoon going to check it out. Take your squad and go take a look, report in once you've secured the site or if you see anything strange."

"Alright, you heard the man!" the sergeant bellowed, "squad three on me. Let's move like you got a purpose people!" Instantaneously three of the platoon's soldiers jumped up and ran toward the Sergeant, P3-7, PFC3-7, and Cpl3-7. Tapping a few buttons on his wrist, the sergeant switched to the squad channel. He then instructed his squad to do the same. "Alright pirates, we do this by the numbers," the sergeant ordered, "P3-7 in the lead, follow in descending rank, you know the drill, let's go go go!"

The squad hurtled down the street in standard squad formation; single file beginning with the Private and then ascending in rank, as you got further back. This way, if fire erupted up ahead, the lowest ranking member of the squad would take the hits, leaving the higher-ranking soldiers out of danger. This tactic was invented by the Zen'Azshrae to conserve the more combat hardened veterans of the army who were less expendable then the raw recruits.

Reaching the building, the team paused; the private situated closest to the giant hole that had been made in the side of the great oak tree in an effort to make an entranceway to this dwelling. "Alright," the sergeant said, "Fire team one, move in and take the left side of the building, fire team two, we'll move along the right side. Eyes peeled pirates." As he finished his statement, the sergeant made a forward motion with his hand, and the private and PFC barreled into the room, weapons sighted against the far wall. The corporal and sergeant followed closely behind, but instead, peeling away to the right wall. Both teams stopped in the corner and surveyed their surroundings. There was no visible threat present at the moment, but the team kept their arm-mounted beam-weapons sighted in case a hazard might appear. The sergeant swept his eyes across the only room of the giant oak tree building, and extrapolated that it must be a religious gathering place of some sort. Odd bench-like structures took up most of the space, with what appeared to be an altar at the far end of the room on a raised section of the floor. Rays of light filtered down through the branches above, producing an eerily calm feeling in the sergeant. He snapped himself out of it right away however, and motioned for fire team one to begin moving along the far wall down towards the opposite end of the building. He then gave the same signal to his Corporal, and the whole team eventually made it to the far side of the temple.

Taking a look now around this edge of the building, the sergeant did not see any disturbance worth noting to the c/o, or more importantly, he did not spot any phazon. It was just as he was about to give the order for his team to head out when he spotted an odd indentation in the wood flooring. It looked almost like a handhold of some sort. Upon switching to MR imaging, the sergeant realized that that section of the floor was hollow, with what appeared to be stairs leading down. He quickly switched back to full-spectrum vision, and approached the cleverly hidden trap door. Reaching down, he grasped the hand-hold, and, pulling with all his might, managed to raise a large section of the floor, revealing a long set of twisting stairs, seemingly heading toward some-sort of cellar or basement. Looking down into the precipice, the sergeant picked up faint traces of phazon readings, so faint, he didn't realize he had found it at first, thinking it was just a sensor-ghost. But then it appeared again, and this time he was sure.

He toggled back to the Lt's private channel, and relayed what he had discovered to him. The Lt paused before relaying back, "Alright, the rest of the platoon is coming, we're going to all check it out together. I've seen what this thing can do to indigenous life, and only a full platoon would be able to bring it down." After this, the Lt signed off, and the sergeant switched back to the full-platoon channel. He now noticed the rest of the platoon moving on his mini-map, a handy device that let him keep track of all of his comrades on the battlefield.

Soon enough, the whole platoon had made their way into the church, and then subsequently down into the catacombs beneath, if you could call them that. It was more like someone had dug a very large tunnel system beneath the town. There didn't even appear to be any support struts, and yet the system still held, an odd occurrence. Yet, it was just another sign of the great decline in the Chozo Empire. At the height of their reign, the Chozo would have built a vast under-ground installation as opposed to this nature-encrusted hole. Roots hung down every couple of meters, signs of the tree-dwellings they passed that were overhead. They had yet to see any signs of phazon, but the lieutenant reported that the tunnels appeared to be leading steadily downward into what appeared to be a vast chamber. Hopefully, the phazon they were searching for would be there, it would make the whole trip worth it for the sergeant.

After a few hours of the tedious downhill trek through the bowels of the earth, the platoon finally reached the massive chamber the sonic probes had picked up when they had first entered the catacombs. The chamber was enormous, gargantuan in fact, with the ceiling being at least three kilometers above them. The room was around seven km in diameter, and designed circular in nature, with vast pillars stretching up at various points along fault lines in the ground. Oddly enough, all these fault lines formed concentric circles around a central dais, clearly of religious significance, owing to the four giant Chozo statues, each watching a different direction, (probably meant to look down upon all who entered). The Zen'Azshrae had no respect for such things however, and no semblance of awe was conveyed to the platoon as it set about scanning the region for the precious phazon. It wasn't long before one of the PFC's reported that he had a faint reading of it over by the statues at the center of the room.

"How odd," the lieutenant said, "the Chozo were reported as hating the phazon, I wonder what it would be doing inside one of their religious statues . . ." he trailed off at this point, just starring at the avian carvings. Finally, after what seemed a considerable amount of time, he ordered out squad three again, and the sergeant led his team up to the statue, scanning for where the phazon vein was located.

No one had suspected that the superstitious stories that patrols brought back from the Chozo ruins were actually true, or an event like this may have been prevented. The hubris that so enshrouded the Zen'Azshrae had blinded them from the truth of the matter, of what actually lay dormant in the very bowels of the Chozo city on Tallon IV, and why no trace of the avian race had ever been found post-meteor crash. If only they had felt it relevant to translate the ruins that dotted the buildings, the scrawled writings of the last of a dying race, etched upon the very earth. Had this been the case, the massacre of platoon seven might have been avoided, the Chozo left to sleep for all eternity. Yet, this was not the case, and so, the Chozo had their bloody revenge, at the expense of the Zen'Azshrae.

Suddenly and without warning the room fell dark, the unknown source of lighting that had kept the room visible before, silenced itself, surprising the platoon. It was in this confusion that the sound was heard. Like a dry scream or cackle of someone gone mad, terribly, terribly mad. It was as if the sound permeated every fiber of your body, filling your very soul with its gut-wrenching terror. Next came the orbs, orbs of blue and black energy, reminiscent of phazon, yet infinitely more significant.

The 3rd sergeant had the misfortune of looking directly into one of the spheres, and it was that for a brief period, he was sucked into eternity. Time stopped, and his soul pondered, caught in the infatescimal period between tick and tock. In that moment he saw and felt everything that was, is and would have been. He understood it all too, he glimpsed the Gods, and saw the universe as one saw a footprint in the sand. At that point he evolved, reaching a new level of consciousness that had not been reached for thousands of years. He became in mere nanoseconds what the Chozo spent a lifetime trying to achieve and failing. Yet, a nanosecond later, it left him. His memory of the incident wiped, and thus all understanding of what it was he glimpsed went with him, yet this is the very thing that saved him. Had he remembered that which had happened to him in that second, he would have tore his very body apart trying to forget.

Suddenly displaced from his trance the sergeant blinked, taking in that which was happening around him. The orbs suddenly had become beings, humanoid in form, yet glowing with an incandescent blue. It would have been described as angelic, if the sergeant knew what an angel was, but their nature was nothing but demonic. The first creature to form immediately unleashed what appeared to be an electrical surge at the private closest to the sergeant, completely turning his suit to slag, and thus, the private with it. Then, before retaliatory measures could be taken on the creature, it disappeared, fading away into nothingness. Nothing could be picked up on any of the visors, as the sergeant madly scrambled through them, trying to salvage the situation. Unfortunately, this was beyond him. His team reacted quickly to the situation however: without him having to find the first creature. They fired upon the second, third and fourth creatures that were forming all around them. The sergeant was elated that the drills he had forced them through had finally payed off, and began firing his arm mounted pulse cannon along side them.

His joy was cut quite short however, when he realized their weapons were having no effect on the creatures, when they began to shoot their weapons. Only one shot was fired by each of the three, still-visible creatures, but this was enough to kill off the rest of the sergeant's squad. The sergeant felt no personal remorse at their loss however, being conditioned for this job from an early age, he only regretted that they had been unable to finish their duty, and that he would be unable to finish his as well. It was in the moment of his greatest remorse, not for himself, but for his cause when he heard more chaos beginning, but not near him. Over near where his platoon had entered the underground structure laser-flares were flashing all-around. _Oh no,_ the sergeant thought, _they've reached the rest of the platoon! _Even as he thought this, his feet were in motion, trying hurriedly to reach his embattled comrades.

Somehow, through sheer force of will his speed was increasing, which the sergeant believed was his adrenal gland starting to pump; his thoughts on his comrades must have spurred him into action. And so, because of this unexplained phenomenon, the sergeant reached his platoon quite quickly, covering the 3.5 kilometers in nearly ¼ of the time it would have taken normally. Thus, he was able to reach his platoon before the Zen'Azshrae had taken any casualties. He quickly began firing his pulse cannon once he spotted the blue outline of one of the mysterious creatures. He hoped that he might be able to distract some of them long enough for at least a few men of the platoon to get away, and find reinforcements. This was not the case, however, for the ghost just shrugged off the thousands of kilojoules being pumped into it, and proceeded to launch another mass of electrical energy at another one of the space pirates. The Zen'Azshrae are not stupid, however, and had adapted to this new assault, dodging most of the slow electric bolts shot at them, as the PFC did to this creature. Yet, if this battle was not resolved quickly, the sheer probability of being struck by the blue electricity would mount, eventually killing off the platoon one by one.

"Sergeant, how in the hell are you still alive?" the lieutenant asked, in-between the blasts from his pulse cannon. "We thought you and your squad were decimated by these things!"

"My squad was sir, but I wasn't," the sergeant replied, in-between the blasts from his own pulse cannon, and having to doge the electrical bolts. "We need to find some way to distract these things while we send a runner for reinforcements!"

"Don't you think I've already thought of that soldier, as soon as we try to send a runner off, one of those creatures interposes itself between him and the exit! If there's any chance of getting out of here alive we'll ha-arrgh!" The lieutenant was cut short mid-sentence to the sergeants mortification when one of the creatures streaked down from it's perch above, and slashed it's claws across the man's chest, opening a gigantic sizzling wound, his eyes, now bottomless pits of chaos, looked on past the lieutenant, as if seeing something for the first time. Then, they glazed over and the man slumped face forward into the dirt.

Consumed by rage, the sergeant continued to blindly fire his pulse gun at the ghosts, who were ever increasing in numbers: there had to be at least thirteen now, surrounding what was left of the platoon. This number diminished soon after the lieutenant died however, the ghosts now realizing their full potential. Men ere cut down left and right, firing at creatures that soon disappeared, only to reappear centimeters away, cutting them down soon after coming into focus. The screams of the dying drowned out even the constant fire of pulse-cannons and the crackle of the electrical bolts as they flew through the air. The sergeant looked on in horror as every person around him was cut down in a scythe of blue energy, the creatures savagely screaming in their own hoarse language as they brought down the fledgling Zen'Azshrae. Soon, all that was left was the sergeant, as he stumbled over the corpses of his men, still firing his pulse-canon at the creatures as they advanced closer, reappearing and disappearing at random.

Then suddenly, it stopped. Everything stopped, the flash of electric bolts, the movement of the creatures, the firing of the pulse cannon, in that moment, it seemed as if all time had halted. The sergeant heard only his own breathing, panting of an extraneous sort. He looked down to check why he had stopped firing, and realized that his pulse cannon had over-heated. It seemed the creatures had left not a moment too soon. The sergeant lowered his pulse cannon, still breathing heavy as he surveyed the room, looking for any sign of the blue and white creatures. Upon seeing none, and scouring once more, the sergeant slumped down onto his knees, too exhausted to even hold his own body up. It was a miracle he had survived this long without blacking-out due to lack of oxygen.

That's when he noticed it, when his sense of sight was not relied upon, as his eyes stared down at the floor, he heard it. Soft, supple chanting, almost like whispers you hear when your imagination is too great. The sergeant strained his ears, trying to pick out what was being said, or where it was coming from. It seemed to be building in rhythm, more voices joining the first, adding counter-points, and subtle reinforcements to the song. He couldn't ignore it now, it was too obvious what he was hearing, the sergeant raised his head. He saw them now, the forms of those who had killed his comrades, amassed in an odd circle around his body, perhaps thousands of the creatures, all with their heads facing upwards, their arms constantly in motion, and ever the persistent chant! It continued on for what seemed like ages to the sergeant, but what in actuality was only a few seconds, before the chant was halted, and all of the creatures focused their eyes on the sergeant. In one swift movement, all of the creatures released the energy they had been gathering upon the sergeant. His body slumped to the floor, horribly battered, and now with an unearthly glow about his armor.

The recording ended in a splash of static and white noise that was almost immediately terminated by the computer. With a few motions by the head of Phazon Expeditions over the table however, the video returned, backed up a few frames before the end, showing a shower of electricity overloading 3S-7's body. The power armor he was wearing was melting before it like wood before plasma; but his skin was not! Despite massive amount of damage that was being dealt to his equipment, it seemed as if the biological components of 3S-7 were left intact, if somewhat changed. The angle of the visor-camera was such that it showed a foot that's protective covering had previously been removed, revealing beneath it a black and blue equivalent of a Zen'Azshrae foot. The Czar couldn't be sure, since the image was, while extremely clear (2160i), still blurry, but it looked as if a familiar blue substance was leaking out of the Sergeant's now mutated foot.

"We had this section," the head of Phazon Expeditions gestured toward a section of the image that displayed the Sergeant's foot, "analyzed through the full-spectrum." Making another few motions the image began to change color as it shifted higher and higher into the spectrum, eventually resting upon an almost black image that showed the foot, and little bit of the ankle as being fairly bright, with the puss exiting the foot a blinding white. The ghost-creatures, which were barely visible in the regular spectrum now appeared sharp revealing that they were Chozo warriors, and dead. Murmurs erupted at the unveiling of this last image as many of the council began talking excitedly with one another in hurried tones. The Czar remained silent and waiting. "As you have no doubt already realized," the presenter continued, "Platoon 7-15-5 appears to have been attacked by long dead Chozo warriors infused with phazon. Whatever strange ritual they performed just prior to the termination of the recording seems to have, while destroying every inorganic material on, or in 3S-7's body, infused the soldier with phazon. Before I continue I would also like to point out, that, even with the destruction of many of the processing units hardwired into him, he is still alive, if highly phazo-active."

More murmurings followed this latest announcement but settled down as one of the Heads rose to speak. The Czar recognized him as Research and was not surprised that he had chosen to speak, considering it would now be his priority to find out just what the hell had happened. To her surprise, however, the Head of Research did not ask about the Chozo, instead he queried, "How are the Sergeant's mental faculties?"

"Fully intact, as far as we can tell neurologically. There may be some psychological trauma from the experience, but so far his brain seems undamaged by the vast amounts of phi-rays he's emitting." The excitement around the Head of Research was palpable now; as he rubbed is hands together excitedly. The Czar now knew why he had inquired about the Sergeant before the ghosts. "So yes, I do believe we have found patient zero for the Omega project."


End file.
